"You can't fire me. I've got tenure," House said.

Cuddy pounded her desk. "This is abnormal, even for you."

"What, because I let grandma out the door with minor lead poisoning? She's got Alzheimer's for God's sake. She should never have been up here unescorted in the first place." He hobbled forward and smiled. "This is about the dating thing, isn't it."

"The fact that you would even bring that up—

He smiled wider. "No, I won't date you. And now I've got a patient to get back to."

She coughed and took a sip of water.

House turned and walked toward the door. "You should get that looked at."

Cuddy sat down. "It's just a little dry mouth."

He stopped. "What did you say?"

"I said my mouth's dry. From yelling at you."

-

Foreman was sitting in the conference room.

House trudged in. "What if it's not a calcium deficiency?"

"We've ruled that out. It's not a calcium deficiency."

House spun the dry-erase board around. He wrote CALCIUM in black letters. "Let's imagine you're a happy little nerve."

Foreman made a face.

"Let's say that you enjoy playing catch with all your other little nerves. It's what you do all day long. You're great. You could make the majors."

He drew a couple of O's and some diagonal lines. "In fact, you're the veteran. The scouts found you first. You're on all the baseball cards."

Foreman shook his head and shrugged. "I don't get it."

House looked up at the ceiling. "You never do." He clicked his teeth. "You're #1? You're #1? No, still don't get it, of course."

"Your name is Acetylcholine." Dr. Chase stood in the doorway. "Acetylcholine was the first neurotransmitter identified by scientists."

House looked at him. "Exactly. Where's Cameron?"

"Dr. Cameron had to stay to get some lost luggage."

"Sure she did." House bit his tongue.

Chase looked at Foreman. "What's the case?"

Foreman handed him a chart. "See for yourself."

Chase looked it over and stopped cold. "Oh."

"And Cameron didn't lose any luggage," House said, "because a certain doctor here doesn't have what our guy has."

"Chronic impotency?" Chase asked. He took a seat.

Foreman tapped the papers. "Chronic impotency as a symptom."

House jammed his cane into the floor. "I know, I know. What could be worse? Possibly having something like dry mouth."

"Dry mouth?" Chase looked harder at the chart.

"Which you won't find on there," House said, "because our patient doesn't have it. What controls secretions in the mouth, Dr. Foreman?"

"The autonomic nervous system."

"And what controls the hands and feet?"

"The peripheral nervous system." Foreman leaned back.

House nodded. "And our patient has twitching in his hands and feet with no sign of a calcium deficiency, but that doesn't rule out the visiting team's slugger. We'll call him Antibody. He attacks the calcium channel with taunts like, "We need a pitcher, not a belly itcher" and equally demoralizing slander. Suddenly Acetylcholine gets scared and can't pitch."

Foreman sits up. "And since acetylcholine is a principal neurotransmitter in the peripheral nervous system whose presence is governed by calcium in the body—

House cracks his shoulders and neck. "His body starts flopping and hopping because of the acetylcholine deficiency. But this also affects other neurotransmitters in his body, not just those on the periphery."

Chase looks up. "His memory loss."

Foreman shakes his head. "Even in a case of peripheral functionality, there's no premise to connect these things with—

"You did a cranial CT?" House asked.

"Yes, and it came back negative."

"Negative for what?" House looked at him. "We didn't know what we were looking for on the first go."

"And we know what we're looking for now?" Chase asked.

-

House rapped his cane on the side of the patient's bed. "You wanted to tell me that you can't stand at attention."

Foreman and Chase stood near the door.

"Huh?" the patient asked.

"You wanted to tell me that you can't salute the flag."

"What?"

"For the record," House continued, "impotency is a clinical symptom and should always be told to your attending physician, no matter how big and black and imposing he may be."

"He told me it wasn't a clinical issue," Foreman said.

"He lied." House tapped the patient on the forehead with his cane. "And if you had told us sooner, you might not be dying right now."